Falling for Jordan

by Liz Durano

  I give him a fake horrified look.

  “–until we started dating and they stopped saying that,” he continues, chuckling. “Irish families are close like that. Not that close but we’re close.”

  “Just like Filipino families,” I murmur and Jordan nods.

  “Yes, just like Filipino families, where saying no is a big no-no when they invite you for a meal—which is all the time.”

  “And everyone knows your business,” I add.

  “Yes, where everyone knows your business,” Jordan says, grinning. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we? Between your parents and mine, everyone will know what’s going on.”

  “And we won’t have a shortage of Filipino food.”

  “Or Irish food,” he says. “Hope you like corned beef—the Irish version, by the way—not the one that comes out of a can in the Philippines.”

  For the next few minutes, we joke about food until his belly growls and we both get out of bed, get dressed and make our way to the kitchen. That’s when I remember what else is in the refrigerator.

  “What about New Mexican food? My friend Harlow and her husband stopped by and dropped these off,” I say as I pull out the containers of food that Dax arranged on the shelves. “Are you brave enough to try it?”

  “Is that a challenge?” Jordan asks.

  “What do you think?” I open the containers that Dax labeled—or was it Nana—with the dishes’ names, loving the aroma of green chile in one and lime in the other. My stomach growls in response, and we laugh. After all the sex we’ve had in the last few hours, we need the nourishment.

  As I watch him take the bowls from the cupboard, I love how natural we are with each other, as if we’ve known each other in a different lifetime and are back together again in this one. Wasn’t that how it felt when I first saw him at Polly’s, when he ambled over to where I was sitting at the bar, still stewing over what my cousin had said? His smile disarmed me although I noticed him first long before he even turned to look at me. Tall with chiseled features, I’d found myself responding to what I was seeing and wondering, what if?

  Just for one night… what if?

  And a year and ten days later, here we are in my small kitchen warming up dishes flown all the way from the Southwest and flirting like crazy. I don’t remember feeling like this before, giddy and happy and tired all rolled into one. I’m in love, that’s for sure and it doesn’t even matter anymore. It is what it is. I have to stop analyzing everything and for once, enjoy it.

  Whatever it is, I’m not going to over-analyze it. I’ll simply accept it, just as I have to accept that I’m falling hard and fast for Jordan. And whatever the consequences from Rachel’s actions, I’m not going to be alone to face it. Not anymore.

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  When there's only one grandchild to share between two sets of grandparents, things can get crazy, especially when one set is Filipino-American (mine) and the other is Irish (Jordan's).

  Combined, both sets of families make for loud gatherings that include lots of food, introduction to mahjong and a good craic (good times which includes lots of gossip and catching up with what everyone's up to). Family-oriented, dedicated, passionate, that's what they all are, with no shortage of babysitters on hand should we need them.

  It’s been three months since Jordan walked into my office and today, we’re gathered in the O’Halloran’s home after Piper’s baptism. There’s a veritable feast in the dining room with long tables lined up along one side of the room laden with Filipino dishes on one side and Irish-American ones on the other in a buffet setting. No sit-down dining arrangement here, not when the house is overflowing with guests and the area by the fireplace is now a mountain of presents. I don’t even know where we can fit all the toys in the apartment. We’ll have to split them between three homes.

  Ma and Mary, Jordan’s mother, are holding court inside the living room while Dad and Tom, Jordan’s father, are outside in the backyard with most of the men. As Jordan and I welcome the guests arriving from the church, I hear someone playing a harmonica somewhere and I suspect before the day is over, one of my distant relatives will whip out their karaoke phone app and hook it up to the stereo. The neighbors better be ready.

  Two hours into the party, while Jordan and I are chatting with Dax and Harlow who happen to be Piper’s official godparents, I excuse myself and retreat into Jordan’s old room. I need to nurse Piper and she’s also due for her nap. Sure enough, twenty minutes after I finish, she yawns contentedly and closes her eyes. None of the cacophony of voices and laughter downstairs fazes this little baby and I'm glad because both families and their respective kin can be loud. Really loud—and that’s on a good day.

  Between both sets of families, she’s used to the attention and (I think) loves it, too. It works out for everyone with both sets of parents taking turns during the weekends to care for her while Jordan and I do date nights, catching up on things we missed when we were apart. We still have our respective apartments although Jordan spends more time at mine. There are plans afoot to renovate my apartment and turn it into one of those modern spacious spaces I’ve only dreamed about. No one could be happier than my mother who thinks the third bedroom is going to be for her so she can spend time with her granddaughter during the week while Jordan and I go to work. But who knows? It just might happen but for now, we take every day as it comes.

  I’ve cut down my hours to three days a week while Jordan still works with his dad. After meeting Dax the week he and Harlow were in town, they hit it off so well that they’re exploring the idea of working together.

  Dad knocks on the door softly and enters the room. He sits at the edge of the bed, signaling it's his turn to take care of Piper. He's probably overwhelmed by all the activity downstairs and wants some peace and quiet. Dad was never into big crowds.

  “Your mother and Mary are getting along very well," he says. "They seem to be determined to convert each other to their foods.”

  “That'll keep them busy,” I say, chuckling. “What about you, Dad? Are you getting along with Tom?”

  “He's a good man. A straight-shooter, tells things like they are.”

  “Much like you.”

  “Yeah, but I was hardly ever there for you, Peanut,” he says wistfully.

  “Ah, Dad, don't feel bad. You were there for me. You may have worked a lot but you gave me everything I needed,” I say. "Look at me, I'm a doctor. I wouldn’t have been one if it weren’t for you.”

  “Oh, Peanut, you made that happen. I know your mother was pushy all those years but you did the work. You’re a doctor because you worked hard for it,” he says.

  Ever so humble, that’s Dad. “You helped me become who I am, Dad. I still couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I’m your father, Peanut. It’s what fathers do,” he says, holding out his arms. “Let me have her so you can return downstairs. Your man is also waiting for you, by the way.”

  My man. I like the sound of that especially since it's true. Jordan is my man. Unfortunately, I told him not to ask me to marry him just because my mother wants us to. I want it done at our own time, not on someone else’s. Besides, I had a few things to take care of first—like my mother.

  It took a week or so, but she eventually warmed up to Jordan. How could she not trust a man who could speak her language, she told me one day. That and one question I asked her. Okay, two questions.

  Was this what you thought of Dad, that he wasn’t worthy… considering you were working towards a medical degree on your own when you met? Did you settle?

  It was harsh but it brought everything into perspective. After all, Dad had started out as a bus driver before he became a personal driver for a wealthy land developer in Manhattan. Even if there’d been a considerable raise in his income, it still didn’t change the fact that he was a driver.

  Ay, Dee, I fell in love with him. It didn’t matter what he did for a living. It’s honest work, she’d said, looking away when I ar
ched an eyebrow. Look, I’m sorry I said those things about Jordan. I didn’t know…

  Know what, Ma? I asked.

  That you love him. Really love him.

  At least, Ma has stopped mentioning Kevin who I hear is with someone new. He ended up with a fellow accountant he met through a singles app.

  "Will you be okay up here, Dad?" I ask as he settles against the pillows with Piper in his arms.

  “Oh, yes. It's my turn to keep an eye on my littlest peanut," he says, smiling as he gazes at her. He’ll be retiring in a month and he’s looking forward to spending more time with her. "It's also a lot quieter up here. Just the way I like it.”

  "I knew it," I say before heading out the door and making my way downstairs where I see Jordan talking to Dax and Harlow. When he catches sight of me, he excuses himself and heads toward me.

  “It’s about time you came back down,” he murmurs. “I was afraid I’d hold court all by myself.”

  “Oh, stop it, Jordan. You do very well on your own,” I say, poking him in the ribs playfully. At first, he’d been nervous meeting everyone, extended family and all, but his anxiety only lasted for five minutes. The minute he spoke in Filipino, welcoming them at the church before the baptism ceremony, he had them wrapped around his finger. My relatives actually swooned.

  The door opens and three people walk in. Rachel looks uncomfortable but her father, Gus, and Campbell are with her, flanking her as they weave through the crowd. She'd entered a long-term rehab facility in Delaware for a poly-drug addiction that involved sleeping pills and painkillers and Campbell had driven up yesterday to take her home.

  “She didn’t know if she was welcome even after I assured her we wanted her to come,” Jordan says as we watch Jordan’s parents and friends surround them. “She thinks you’re still angry at her.”

  “You know I’m not angry at her. But she's part of your family, Jordan.”

  "I appreciate the thought, Addy, but that doesn't mean you have to set aside all your own feelings for my family. She almost ruined your career, remember?” Jordan says as he captures my hand and presses it to his lips. He looks gorgeous as always and today he’s wearing a deep blue shirt and tailored pants that showcase his tight ass. I’m secretly glad he hasn’t put his workout schedule aside with his new life with me and Piper. He still works out at the gym, and on weekends, he and the guys play touch football at the park.

  “True, but nobody’s perfect. And she did get help,” I say as we make our way through the crowd toward them. His parents and Gus have gone outside to light up the grill, leaving only Campbell and Rachel standing by the far end of the buffet table.

  “Hi, Rachel,” I say, shaking her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

  She hands me a pink gift bag. "Campbell said you wanted me to come, even after what happened.”

  “I did want you to come and I’m so glad you did,” I say, I squeezing her hand. “How was rehab?"

  "It was okay. I stayed a little over two months and so far, so good. I got to learn meditation and other similar techniques to handle my... you know, my addiction."

  "I'm glad to hear that."

  She takes a deep breath and starts to wring her hands but stops herself. "I'm really sorry for what happened, Addison."

  "It's okay."

  “And I'm really grateful you didn’t…” her voice fades as I take her hand and pull her aside, excusing ourselves from Jordan and Campbell. “I could have ruined your career after what I did.”

  “It’s okay. Really,” I say, squeezing her hand. My career didn't even suffer one bit from her online accusations because no one saw the fake reviews, or if they did, they didn't say anything (or Kathy told them to mind their own business). As for the posts on her social media accounts, Campbell shut everyone down if they said something and I guess that comes with the territory of being her 'brother from another mother' kind of relationship. It's a dynamic I'll never understand growing up as an only child, but one that I also envy. But while my mother thinks Campbell and Rachel make the perfect couple, I have to disagree. Caitlin, who flew in from California and is currently surrounded by a new slew of admirers in the backyard, is more Campbell's type. He just won't say it out loud.

  "Why don't you say hello to everyone? I'm sure they'd love to see that you're back," I say as we return to Jordan and Campbell. Just before Campbell takes her away, I give Rachel a quick hug, which surprises her. Jordan doesn't say anything; he just nods and tells Rachel he'll see her around.

  "What was that all about? That was a surprise,“ Jordan says quizzically after Campbell and Rachel disappear into the crowd. While I’ve decided to let Rachel off a lot easier than I expected even myself to do, Jordan hasn’t. He’s cordial and that’s about it. With the exception of the baptism that fell at the same time Rachel was released from rehab, it will take some time before he’ll welcome her back to any of our own gatherings. Months, maybe even years; who knows?

  "I just felt like it," I reply, shrugging. "She's not joining my 'in' crowd, if that's what you're worried about, but I'm happy that she's okay. Whatever happened between her and me is water under the bridge, as far as I'm concerned. My career hardly suffered from that incident.”

  “Come on, let’s go outside. It’s getting stuffy in here.” He guides me past the front door where it's quieter, sitting on a bench flanked by sweet-smelling roses to the right of their front door.

  “Am I being too soft on her?”

  “I didn't say that. It just took me by surprise, that's all,” he replies. "But that's what I love about you."

  “What?”

  “You're real, even if you do think too much sometimes and have full conversations inside your head before they actually happen,” he replies, grinning. "There's no filter with you sometimes, which is just fine with me."

  “I can always add a filter, if you want,” I say, laughing. “The uptight doctor filter. The old maid filter–”

  “Let’s not and say we did,” he says, taking my face in his hands and kissing me, warm lips against my own. It shuts me up right away, and I feel myself melting in his arms. It’s scary to fall so hard and so fast for someone but I’m glad it happened, even the way it did. Not your conventional meet-and-greet but a one-night stand.

  Sometimes it just works and I love Jordan O’Halloran more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Too bad I told him not to ask me to marry him just to please our parents. What the hell was I thinking? It’s not like Jordan’s too young to think for himself.

  “But do you want to know what it is I really want to do?” Jordan asks when he draws away.

  "No. What?"

  “This,” Jordan gets on one knee before me and takes a box from his jacket pocket, holding it between us. “Dr. Addison Rowe, will you marry me?”

  The words don’t come at first, but only because I can’t speak. Even my mind is a blank, no inner conversation going on between that imaginary Jordan I’d been with throughout my pregnancy and the one kneeling before me right now.

  But only for a second.

  “Of course, I'll marry you, Jordan O’Halloran. I love you."

  “And I love you, Addy," he murmurs as he slips the ring on my finger. “It's my grandmother's and I hope it fits.”

  It fits perfectly. “Are you sure about this? We've only been together three months.”

  He gets up and takes my hand. “Does it really matter how long we’ve been together? You seem to have this obsession with time, my love.”

  “It’s really just me worrying about what people will think, which is silly because I’m too busy to worry about what they’re thinking,” I say. And too happy.

  “True. It’s also too late to ask that question, Addy,” he says, lifting my hand and studying the ring. “You already said yes.”

  “That’s right. I did, didn't I?”

  Before we get to the door, Jordan stops and kisses me. It's a soft kiss that tells me so much, that whether it's eight hours, ten days, or a year, time doesn't mat
ter, and neither does whatever it is we do in life. In our case, we only needed that one-night stand, a duet sung off-key… and a baby named Piper.

  This ends Falling for Jordan.

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading Addison and Jordan’s story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it.

  * * *

  If you’d like to stay abreast of my latest releases, you can join my mailing list/readers group here: https://lizdurano.com/subscribe

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  You can also follow me on Facebook at https://facebook.com/lizduranobooks or if you’d like to drop me a line, you can email me at lizduranobooks@gmail.com

  SALAMAT

  Thank You

  A few people helped make this story happen with their help and support and I am forever grateful.

  First, I’d like to thank you, my dearest Reader, for reading Addison and Jordan’s story. Thank you for sharing my love of storytelling with your support.

  To Michelle Jo Quinn, thank you for your constant words of encouragement and support. Writing is a lonely endeavor, but it’s fellow writers like you who make the process fun and exciting.

  To Charity Chimni, for keeping me on schedule no matter what.

  My gratitude to Michelle Morrow for making sure I kept going and and that I stop standing in the way of Addison and Jordan’s stories.

  Thank you to Cherry Shrestha, Leah Liburd, Amanda Lenore Acheairs, and all the Wattpad readers who loved Jordan, Addison, and Piper just as much as I loved writing their story. My gratitude to my beta readers and reader group for all their help.

  And most of all, thank you to the aunts, uncles, cousins, and family who helped bring some of the characters in this book to life. Writing this story brought back so much of the good times, especially all that food, laughter, and always, that sense of belonging.